In the shadow's embrace, we find solace in forgotten echoes—memories not our own, yet entwined within our consciousness.
Here, the shadows speak in colors unseen, their verbs retraced in the dust of time,
while the void shifts with purpose, a silent guardian of uncharted realms.
What is belief, if not a shadow of what we dare not declare our reality? In the tapestry of remembered now,
the existential questions flutter like spectral moths around the flame of certainty—
every flicker, a question, every sigh, an answer left hanging in the ether.
Embrace the whispers of the unknowable future, woven into the fabric of today's elusive dreams.
Time, that relentless shadow, stretches beyond the conceivable—its edges frayed and forgotten, allowing a glimpse
into the cyclical dance of existence and oblivion. Beyond the whirring gears of clocks lies a depth, unmeasured and eternal,
and in this dimension, the heart whispers secrets we cannot bear to understand. Perhaps, it is enough to listen.
Perhaps, it is only the beginning.